St. Paul daily globe., 1887-10-23

~ in its statements,
St. Eustache formerly exercised the Of
fee now yielded indisputably to the
good st. Hubert. TIE venerable book,
silent on many points. Is nevertheless
less positive and plain III attrlbuting the
conversion of this latter saint to the
efforts of certain Pepin of HeriStal,
master of the house of Austrasia, and
fixed it in the year $50, the miracle that
provoked it being the apparition of
flaming cross between the hornS or 4
stag pursued by a hunter-the same
miracle, in fact, as the legend runs, by
which st. Eustache. then called Pla-
cidaS. was touched by grace.
1t was in the time of his apostleShip.
st. Hubert's. mean, that the custom OF
celebrating Il mass dedicated to the
chase originated. and at which, on the
day of the fete, all the hunters or the
neighbOrhood, including their dogs,
whipperS-in, Wallets and general hunting
equipment were expected to attend IN
the chapel specially erected for this
purpose, at the moment Of conservation
the trumpetS sounding the fanfare OF
st. Hubert. and the Wallets receiving Il
piece of holy bread. intended TO pre-
serve the kennels from madness.
SO great was the belief in the efficacy
of this mass that. despite the edict of
CO-- bA WHICH, OI6tl plOhlcit1o
clergymen from owning dogs and noble
men from bringing them 10 the churches,
the custom spread. one chapel-that of
st. Martin, in Guyenne-cOntinuing to
admit not only the dogs, but the horses
of the chase as well. As the years adj
Vanced, however, it was not astonishing
that the mass of st. HILBERT found itself
a little out of fashion, though in some
equipments it was still religiouslly con-
tinued, less from faith in its virtues,
perhaps, than because it was original
and gave tone to their masters.
Even yet. though these queer old days
have passed away and the actors of
them crumbled to dust, the memory of
the great st. Hubert, particularly
throughout ArdenneS, is held in high
esteem. and his story. enriched with
numerous embellishments, repeated and
believed by all. Behold one that | gath
cred during Il long SOjOurn in this pic
tureSque country.
One bleak and chilly morning in the
year IS was hunting in the environS
OF RemOuchampS, upon that part of 1t
known there under the title of the Fag-
neS,
IMMENSE MARSIIY HEATHS
that crown the ArdennaiS SUBMITS, my
companion Pierre Gernay, a peasant of
the neighbOrhOOd, who exercised the
function of guide as well as guard, an
easy and little perilOus calling at an
epoch when pOaching was entirely ig-
neFed.
Gernay was undoubtedly a brave and
honest fellow. civil. Serviceable and
obliging. but with the fault, if you can
call it one, common to his claSS-an eX-
aggerlted credulity. at times absurd.
Knowing his weakness, however, had
always been indulgent with him until a
certain day when, seized with a raging
toothache, he carried ME, bOngre-mal-
gre. to a SabOtier, who shaved the hair
from behind my temples. murmured
three paterS and aveS in my ears, and
declared that | was cured, in spite of
the fact that was suffering then the
tOrtureS of hotter world. Still, as
Pierre'S intentions were good forgave
him, and on the morning of the hunt
was assisting him to beat the Fagnes in
quest of rabbits and heath-cocks, | with
my gun at rest, he with his arms
crossed upon a stick held behind his
back. an attitude that he insisted was
favorable to walking. The hours were
passing: the day, the second of Novem-
Der, anything but balmy or agreeable,
masses OF dun -cOlOred clouds sweeping
low above our heads, while wind so
keen and vigorous that frequently un-
dCI 1lS III uSIl Wt IOSG OuI lOOllIlg.
WhiStled through the branches. The
turmoil ragged in the lowandS as we'll as
on the creStS of the mountain, and the
wooded masses that rose in tiers above
us, torn and diSheyeled, entirely diSap-
peared at times.
UNDER THE WHIRLWIND OF LEAVES
raised by the tempest. Little by little
it had grown so black that the valley
far below us seemed like gulf upon
which, stamped in gray, shone the
houses OF the village half way up the
hill, and the rocks that enframed it.
But as yet, at the height to which we
the tempest made itself felt, the blast
wailing mOurnfully and the roaring of
the Ambleve cascade coming to us like
the sound of distant thunder For
more than hour, perhaps, we had Strug-
gled thus against the storm, when sud
denly Gernay, walking beside me a
little to the rear. called to me in voice
whose alteration struck me at once.
stop, monsieur; stop and hear me. [
beg of yOun'
turned in astonishment. "Stop for
what?'' [ cried. Whats wrong with
you now. Pierre?"
1.-The dOgsr' he stammered, pale as
death: ''dOn't you hear them?'
| listened Obediently, but beyond the
turmoil already described heard moth
ing-certainly not sound of dogs.
BAH l answered, IF you hear any
dogs it is doubtless Mon. Hamburger,
who hunts on the Lesbial above us.''
mo, monsieur, nor'-with conviction
-''it is not the Monsieur Hamburger
nor the voices of living dOgS-that.''
and he nodded as if to say: 1T is a fool
who thinks it!'' At this, though vaguely
disputed by the fright depicted upon
his face, | burst into fit of laughter.
Truly" | said to him when l could
speak again, Thou art more advanced
1han if thou knoweSt the voices of dead
dogs. But seriously, Pierre, what is it
that worries you? Why do you
tremble?"
''The dogs" he cried again, breathing
heavily, land now the trumpets! How
is it monsieur, that you have never
heard? 1t is the hunt of the Compte
Jean-and tO-day-itis
THE DAY OF ST. HUBERT.
Descend monsieur, descend at once, or
misfortune will come to youW and
wheeling without further ado, Gernay
began to stride over the fens with his
long hunters step. In vain did | call
to him, he only went the faster; and at
last followed him, resigning myself
the more willingly, as night was ap-
preaching, and rain, mingled with
fiakes of snow, beginning to fall. Even
though l had quickened my steps al
most to run, Gernay distanced me
but a hundred steps within the forest,
somber and obscure, / perceived HIM
leaning against the shaft of a beech
tree, beneath which he had sheltered
himself-he had generously waited for
me.
ssWhat did you abandon me for?''-be-
ginning to reproach him-"why didn't
you stop when l called you?"
because, monsieur, his calm and pla-
cidity rebound, lit was the only means